It was past six by the time they finished the application. Kamila was sure it would be approved—the puppy academy was a fantastic concept and absolutely perfect for the cooperative space and for the neighborhood it was in. Kamila didn’t stick around to celebrate with Maricel, though. She may have bailed on setting up the party room, but it wasn’t in her to just skip the party altogether. Maricel agreed to take Darcy home for her, and Kamila drove straight to the Aim High cocktail party downtown.
It was after seven when she finally walked into the already-pretty-full party room. She lingered in the doorway—she could see most of the board of directors, including Anil and that insufferable Marlene. It took her a bit longer, but she eventually spotted Rohan.
He was staring intently at his phone on the other side of the room. She’d last seen him two days ago—and in those two days she’d realized both that he meant more to her than anyone who wasn’t a blood relative, and that despite saying he didn’t underestimate her, he did exactly that.
Of course, he lookedgood, though. No one wore a suit like Rohan. She tilted her head and looked carefully. But lately his look was different. He was a bit less…severe. The new beard. Slightly more casual clothes. More modern tailoring to his suits. Even more color. Today’s suit was charcoal, but his shirt was pale yellow. Yellow! On Rohan! And he wasn’t even wearing a tie.
She wanted to go to him. She always wanted to be closer to him. Whether it was to straighten his tie, smooth his hair, or squeeze his arms, she’d constantly find reasons to let her skin come into contact with his. Being near him had always cheered her up, but considering her distress right now was because of him, he probably wasn’t the right person to comfort her.
He looked up suddenly, noticing her. She half expected that wide, rare Rohan smile. Or even the small, secret Kamila-you’re-incorrigible smile. But no. He stared a few moments, looking at her, his expression in its unreadable “corporate” mask.
What was he thinking, anyway? Maybe disapproving of her choice of attire for the party? She’d, of course, not changed into the respectable little black dress and was still wearing the dress she’d worn to the fashion show. In a rich glossy satin, the dress had a black off-the-shoulder and backless bodice and a full skirt. The skirt was printed in a bold floral with red, blue, and purple flowers, and if anyone looked closely, they’d see little dalmatian puppies peeking from behind the flowers. She was wearing it with a full black-lace crinoline and red patent T-strap heels. And instead of slicked back and “professional,” her hair was open and curly, with nothing but a comb holding it back on one side. This wasnothow she’d intended to dress for this party, but she just didn’t care anymore. She was going to be herself—the real Kamila. If anyone didn’t approve, it was their issue, not hers.
Rohan slipped his phone into his pocket as he walked toward her.
“Kam, you’re finally here.”
“Is that a crack at me being late? I had a client crisis.” She looked around the room. It looked great—or as great as a boring corporate party room could look. “You seem to have done fine without me.”
He shook his head quickly. “No. It wasn’t a crack. I’m glad you’re here. Can we talk now?” He glanced around. The room was filling up. They’d need to schmooze soon. “Can we step into the lobby for five minutes?”
Kamila bit her lip, annoyed. “Why?”
“Hi, Kamila!” someone very perky said. Kamila turned around…and the perky person was Jana Suleiman? What? Why was Jana even here? And why was she being so…bubbly?
She looked radiant, as usual. She was wearing a slim red shift dress that did nothing to hide her emerging baby bump. And she had the perfect red lipstick to match. She kissed both of Kamila’s cheeks—weird—then looked at Rohan.
“Rohan, good to see you,” Jana said.
“I’m surprised to see you,” he responded.
“Just here to support one of my oldest friends.” She looped her arm through Kamila’s. Was it normal to become a completely different person in the fourth month of pregnancy? Maybe it was the prenatal vitamins. “C’mon, Kamila. I see some people I know from the aid community here—I’ll introduce you.” And she pulled Kamila away from Rohan.
“What are you doing here?” Kamila asked after Rohan was a fair distance away.
“I asked Anil if I could come. I thought you might need an advocate. I knew you’d have no friends here.”
Kamila frowned. “Are we friends?”
Jana shrugged. “We’re comrades in arms right now.”
“But Anil is here. And your colleagues. Aren’t you worried about gossip?”
Jana smiled. “I’m not worried about gossip—I’mexpectingit. People want me to hide away like a fallen, shamed woman. He’s the one who was married, not me. I’m flipping the script on their expectations.”
Kamila nodded, impressed. “You’re a renegade. I like it.”
“Thank you.” Jana cringed. “Are those dogs on your dress? I’ll never understand how you manage to pull off clothes like that.”
Kamila laughed.
With Jana by her side, Kamila mingled with the crowd. The food was perfect. Anil’s impassioned speech about the good work the incubator would do was probably effective, even if Jana rolled her eyes through it. Judging by the numerous donation forms being filled out in the room, it looked like the evening was a financial success, too.
It actually made Kamila feel good. As much as she didn’t respect Anil anymore, and as much as she had discovered that all this work she’d done was useless for her, hearing Anil talk about the project gave her the warm fuzzies about the small part she’d played in raising the money. Helping people with their small businesses was Kamila’s passion, and she loved that Aim High’s mandate was to help refugees and newcomers make their dreams come true. Her bitterness about being here started to wash away. A little bit.
And to add to the night’s positives, Rohan didn’t approach her again. He seemed busy with his corporate buddies. Marlene did, though. Annoyingly.
“I’m surprised to see you,” she said primly to Kamila. “You should thank me for arriving early enough to help Mr. Nasser deal with the caterers. Weren’t you supposed to be here to let them know where to set up the food?”
